Just about a few dreams

I had a dream last week that tornadoes came to take you, ten of them, angry and overdue. They came one at a time, each stronger than the last, and as much as I pulled you toward the ground it was you who had the strength to scream and twist your way down into the earth and safely back into my palms. You, my brother with the voice of ten thousand ocean waves and fingers made of the roots of the tallest trees.

My other brother, the blond headed, red cheeked man who always smiles died protecting me from my older scars in my dream last night. The whispy man with his blue car came in the back way and beat my brother to get to me, searing his scarlet name back into my chest and laughing in a way that said he’d found me and he would never let me go again. Not even my love could protect from that.

Before him though, I dreamt of electrical fire with an absent smoke that I put out with water somehow before the fireman from Mayflower came and drug me from my mother’s house.

And some nights I am transformed from a needless, broken vampire to the truly free sun dragon. I create storms that bring debris down upon my anti-mother’s head, and on these nights I wake in a half hot, half cold sweat, breathing heavy, having just been enslaved by a too big jawed black haired belladonna, and then so scared as I awaken, unaware of the actual moment.

I can only wonder in my waking hours, what I am trying to tell myself as I sleep.